Don't Look Back
by Riona
Summary: Set during Josh's schizophrenia storyline. Josh doesn't know where he is, he doesn't know how he got there, and he doesn't know if he can trust his own mind.


Poor Josh; he's probably my favourite character in _Waterloo Road_, but I give him quite a hard time when I'm writing. This piece is loosely inspired by the _Silent Hill _series, but you don't need to know anything about it to follow this. I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

**Don't Look Back**

* * *

He can't remember how he got here.

He was in an exam, he thinks. Staring at a paper, not writing anything down. He can't even remember what subject.

This definitely isn't an exam room.

He's standing outside, on a grey street under a grey sky, surrounded by pale grey fog. The air is cold, and he can't hear anything but his own breathing. That might be a good thing; he's tired of the whispers.

But he can't remember how he got here. He doesn't know why he would have come here. Is this place even real?

Josh turns around, thinking of going back the way he must have come, seeing if anything knocks against his memory.

There's an enormous split in the ground, a rift running across the entire road and pavement, all the way from the boarded-up shop on one side to the house on the other. If he tried to jump it, he'd be killed.

Josh stares.

He supposes he didn't come this way, then.

* * *

There's nobody here. He's been on the move for a long while, and he hasn't seen a single person. There are a few cars by the side of the road, but they're all boxy and old-fashioned and look like they haven't been touched for years. Not really surprising, considering the way the road has opened up. This place must have been abandoned. Where is he?

Outside a big, looming building that looks just as dead as every other building here – he thinks it might be a hospital – he comes across a glass-fronted noticeboard. His first thought is that it might have a map or something, but he can't make anything out; it's all been graffitied over with what looks like a DSC tag. Which is ridiculous; whatever this place is, he knows it isn't Rochdale.

He hesitates for a moment, wondering whether he should break the glass, try to get at whatever's underneath it, but then he remembers the fire alarms and turns away.

* * *

It feels like he's been stuck here for hours, walking down endless identical streets, no sign of life but his footsteps and his breathing and his heartbeat. Everything is empty and silent.

After the fire drill – it was worse after his diagnosis – a part of him felt like he was barely managing to keep himself balanced in reality, trying not to fall through the cracks opening beneath his feet. He didn't know what was underneath him, but he knew he didn't want to find out.

He supposes it must have been this.

* * *

He doesn't know how long he's been walking when he sees the figure through the fog, leaning against iron railings at the side of the road. Josh hurries towards it – someone else is _here_, maybe they can give him directions, maybe – and then he gets close enough to see clearly and stops as if he's hit glass, feeling sick.

"Grady," he says.

Grady grins lazily at him. "Josh."

Josh clenches his fists without thinking, so hard that pain sparks across his knuckles. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh, is that any way to greet your boyfriend?"

How is he here? "You're not my boyfriend."

Grady takes a long drag of the joint he's holding, still smiling. When he speaks, the smoke on his voice blends into the fog. "Missed me, though, didn't you?"

"You wish," Josh says. He's breathing too fast. He hates how tense he is; it feels like he's losing some kind of game, with Grady there, completely relaxed, just watching him and smiling. "Bet you really miss my wallet."

Grady takes another pull, never taking his eyes off Josh's, and then pushes away from the railing he was leaning against. Josh takes a step back. Grady laughs.

"You were arrested," Josh says.

"I was, wasn't I? S'pose I shouldn't be here. I'll go and turn myself back in."

"So you're not here," Josh says. It's so difficult to push through what he seems to be seeing and really think about whether it makes sense. It's like being in a dream; he just wants to accept everything. But he has to focus. He can't trust his senses any more. "You're not real."

Grady's smile broadens. "Good thing your mind can't hurt you, then." He wiggles the joint between his fingers. "Want a smoke? It'll warm you up."

Josh stares at him. "You joking? I'm never touching that stuff again."

"If you think you're just imagining this, what's it matter?"

For a moment – just a second – he's almost tempted. He wants to stop having to think about everything. But then his dad comes into his mind and he just can't do it, he can't, even if this is all in his head. "I just don't want it, all right?"

Grady shrugs. "Suit yourself."

God, if only Josh had done that back at the start of term.

Something to warm him up sounds good, though. It's still cold, getting colder. Josh wraps his arms around himself. "Where are we?"

"Does it matter?" Grady asks. He blows out a long plume of smoke. "Got somewhere you need to be, have you?"

"My dad'll be worried. And my friends."

Grady laughs. "You don't have any friends," he says. "You're gay and you're a loony; what's to like?"

Josh knows he shouldn't listen, but something catches in his chest anyway.

"Finn just wants people around to worship him," Grady says, walking slowly right up to him. His footsteps echo in the empty street. Josh takes another step backwards without thinking, and then he decides that no, he's going to hold his ground, no matter how close Grady gets. "Lauren, I don't know, maybe she feels sorry for you or something. I mean, you thought _I_ was your friend, and we both know what I really cared about. Why would anyone actually want to spend time with someone like you? You're not even a real person."

Josh swallows. "You're one to talk," he says. He's intensely conscious of his heartbeat, for some reason.

"Maybe," Grady says, with a smirk. He's so close now that when he speaks it rustles Josh's hair. "But I'm still more real than you. You're so _boring_; you don't have any _initiative_, Josh. No wonder you keep falling for the ones who break the rules; at least they make your sad life seem a bit more interesting. And that's why I can pressure you into taking the drugs that messed you up, or kiss someone else, or slam you against a wall" – he winks – "and not in the fun way..."

He's holding onto Josh's wrist now, the unlit end of the joint between his fingers pressed along the line of a vein. Josh is trying to breathe properly, but it feels like there's a belt tightening around his lungs. The cold air isn't a problem now, his skin is _burning_, and when Grady slides his other hand onto Josh's back and kisses him Josh lets him. He tastes of smoke.

"And you'll still love me," Grady whispers, when the kiss is eventually broken. He's barely drawn back; Josh feels the words against his lips. "It's pathetic."

Grady works the hand holding the joint between them, takes another drag, and then he kisses Josh again, breathing the smoke into his mouth. When Grady pulls away, Josh can't think, can barely stay standing, and he doesn't know whether it's the weed or just the boy.

"No charge," Grady says, grinning.

Josh takes a couple of shaking steps forward, and then he realises that he's moving towards Grady and he has no idea why.

"Still think you're imagining things?" Grady asks, as he leans back against a shuttered shopfront.

Josh feels like he's drowning. "I have to go."

Grady blows a smoke ring, winks at him. "Send my regards to your dad."

* * *

It's not easy to move at first; he can only take small steps, still trembling all over. A couple of times he glances back over his shoulder, hoping that Grady doesn't give chase – it's not as if he'd be difficult to catch – but Grady is exactly where he was, just smoking and watching him. When their eyes meet the second time, Grady gives him a small, sarcastic wave.

Eventually, Josh manages to steer himself clumsily into a side street; he can't stand it, feeling Grady's eyes on his back. Once he knows he's out of Grady's sight, walking becomes easier, somehow.

He doesn't know where he's going; he just wants to get away. Away from Grady, away from everything. If he keeps going, he'll have to get somewhere, right?

* * *

The world seems to be getting darker the further he walks; must be nearly nightfall. He should probably try to find somewhere to sleep. Or just keep walking until he collapses and dies of exhaustion. He doesn't really know which sounds better right now.

After all, what does he have to go back to? (Is the fog getting thicker?) His friends? When he tries to think of them, all he can hear is Grady's voice in his head. Why would anyone want to spend time with him?

How did he get here? Was he running away? He can't remember.

As he rounds a corner, something strange happens, although it's not as if everything else that's happened to him today has been totally normal. A feeling, a vision: an impression of someone holding him, and he almost lashes out before he realises it's not Grady. The arms he seems to feel around him are comforting, safe. But they can't be real, because he's here on his own.

"_Josh_," he hears his dad's voice whisper, low and desperate. "_Josh, where are you?_"

"_Josh_," his dad begs, "_please come back. Wake up._"

Can't be real.

Josh shrugs the arms off and keeps walking. Step, step, step.


End file.
